At least Hannibal Lecter was an Epicurean

Meet my dog, Scully.
Doing her best impersonation of Dr. Hannibal Lecter of the Thomas Harris novels. The brilliant psychiatrist with a taste for human flesh.
If only I was so lucky.
She's wearing the nylon muzzle because she cannot go into the backyard without consuming Trinity's shit (much of the time as it's coming out of Trinity - gross).
I have cut Scully's food intake waaaaay down. She's fat. And she's retired. I take Trinity, when the weather's good, on a four-mile brisk walk every day.
Scully and I then meander around the block. Very slowly.
I mean, she's 11 years old and doesn't have that pup-like spark any longer, but for chrissakes.
Shit-eating is just wrong.
(It also makes her stinky; I now have mint breath spray that she hates, but gets, once a day).
So here's the problem. I don't always have the time to watch the dogs take a dump in the backyard (I poop-patrol every other day). Scully also doesn't like to "go" in front of people.
So I let them out to fend for themselves.
And go to the window - horrified - as Scully is busy munching down on Trin's poop.
I have yelled at her. I have smacked her nose with a rolled up newspaper. I have stuck my fingers down her throat.
For her, poop is like heroin - and she desperately needs a fix.
She doesn't care.
Must....eat....poop....
Hence, the nylon muzzle.
The first time I put it on her, she refused to leave the back step - and managed to get it off with her paw.
I tightened it, and sent her out in it every time she went out.
She slowly is getting used to it. You can tell it still pisses her off, though. She gets a treat after, so that has softened the resentment.
Sometimes, I get busy or distracted, and I forget to put the muzzle on.
And she'll eat poop (quckly, before I notice what she's doing).
So, it is my burden. One I accept. Take the time, put the muzzle on.
Because poop eating is gross (unless you're Chuck Berry, then it's a weird sexual thing, called a Cleveland Steamer).
If you can take one thing away from this that's good - and it's a stretch, believe me - I guess it would have to be that she doesn't feast on her own shit.
Eeeeewwwwwww.